Lemon Lavender
by HolidayArmadillo
Summary: Lemon Lavender had always been her favourite. It was hopeful.


Lemon Lavender

A/N – This is my first attempt at House fanfiction, and the result of a weird flash of inspiration in the middle of the night, so forgive me if it's terrible. Reviews would be greatly appreciated!

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Lisa Cuddy sat cross-legged on her bed, twirling a strand of dark hair round her fingers and staring vacantly around her at nothing in particular. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a small voice was saying that this was pointless and unproductive, but she ignored it, focusing her gaze on the dresser in front of her. A long row of scented candles was lined up neatly along one side, their glass jars catching the light from the bedside lamp and throwing slithers of yellow across the carpet. After a moment, she got up and walked over, her bare feet soundless on the carpet. Absently, she ran her finger along the line of jars, wondering, as she always did, how she had come to acquire so many of the things. A small smile flitted momentarily across her face as she remembered the first candle she had bought. She and a few girlfriends from med school had gone on an impromptu shopping spree, blowing all their cash in a thousand different stores and regretting it wholeheartedly the next day when they were out of money and realised the coffee had run out. The candle she had bought that day was sitting near the end of the row. Her fingers touched lightly on the lid, disturbing the thin layer of dust that had settled there. The word 'Jasmine' was spelt out in ornate lettering, the print faded by age and sunlight. There was still a half-inch of the pale yellow wax left in the jar. How it had lasted for over fifteen years she had no idea. Did candles have expiry dates? And what would happen when they went past them, anyway?

A thunderclap sounded abruptly from outside, and she jumped, startled from her thoughts. Suddenly, she realised how disturbingly quiet it was. The house was virtually silent but for the sound of rain hammering on the rooftop, and the ticking of her watch seemed magnified in the still air. She glanced reflexively towards the bathroom, and the nervousness rushed back with renewed force as she looked through the door to where the little white stick sat innocently on the edge of the sink. She had already decided that this treatment would be the last. In vitro was expensive, and it was pointless to keep trying if her body was only going to reject…

It wasn't until a tear splashed of the end of her nose that she realised she was crying. Drawing in a deep breath, she wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hand and turned to the dresser, picking up each candle in turn and reading off the names in a vain attempt to distract herself. After a minute or so, she looked down at the display of her watch, an action she had been trying desperately to refrain from doing. Six minutes to go. She sighed, raking a hand through her hair. Ten minutes had never passed more slowly. Her front teeth crept out over the edge of her lip and began worrying it relentlessly, a nervous habit she had been trying valiantly to curb with little success. As she glanced around the room, her eyes alighted on a box of matches on the bookcase. After all, what was the point in having candles if you didn't light them? Absolutely nothing, she thought as she strode across the room to the bookcase. And a little self-indulgence definitely wouldn't go amiss.

She stood hesitantly, turning the matchbox over and over in her hands as she surveyed her collection. It was all very well deciding to light a candle, but which one was a whole different matter. Still, she welcomed the distraction. It was good to have something to do, a choice to make. Sandalwood was no good, Vanilla was too sweet and she had no idea what had possessed her to buy that butterscotch one. Coconut had virtually no scent whatsoever and Watermelon was ruled out for the same reason. Clementine and Peppermint were both too strong and she was bored of Cinnamon. "Which leaves Lemon Lavender," she murmured quietly to herself, "And…Rose." Her fingers hovered indecisively over the latter, a soft pink candle with only a few millimetres of wax left in the bottom. There was nothing wrong with Rose, she reasoned, and she'd obviously liked it a lot at some point in time… Her hand was half closed over it before she remembered exactly why it had burnt so low. Every muscle in her body tensed as she closed her eyes against the unwelcome onslaught of memories. It had been the day House woke up from surgery after the infarction. She had never seen him so angry, so…terrifying, as the day he had yelled at her, called her by her first name and shouted at her to go away with his voice and eyes full of venom. As soon as she'd got home from work, she'd gone straight up to her room, lit a candle, and cried herself to sleep. She'd woken up in the early hours of the morning with tears drying on her face and a headache from the cloying smell of roses that had filled the room. She shook her head sharply. No. Definitely not Rose. With the state she was in, it would only take a candle to bring back some of the worst memories of her life with painful clarity. Definitely not Rose.

Which left Lemon Lavender. She had always liked it; relished the sharp, sanitary tang of lemon that cut through the lavender like a finger drawn through chalk. She loved the way it was always two things at once: uplifting and relaxing, sharp and soft, bitter and sweet. And she always found that it seemed…hopeful, in a way. Maybe that was why it had always been her favourite.

The match flared, it's light bright and crisp in the orange yellow haze of the lamp. Cautiously, she lowered it toward the candle, holding it there for a second as the wick hissed and a familiar smoky aroma filled the air. She smiled, breathing in lungfuls of the scented air, before settling down on the bed to wait.

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**A/N – Again, really sorry if its terrible. A review would be lovely if you are so inclined.**


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